


Nothing Lasts (Forever)

by J_33



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Bromance, Clints has a barn and kids, F/M, Nat is struggling, post Cap 2, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_33/pseuds/J_33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t a matter of if Natasha Romanov would fall apart, but when.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Lasts (Forever)

**Author's Note:**

> This is post Cap 2, but before AOU. I see the movie on May 1, but I wanted to write this before so things may be off from the actual movie, i'm just going off of spoilers. Anyway, here's what happens after SHIELD falls, and where Clint was the whole time.

_You are today where your thoughts have brought you;_

_you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you._

_-James Allen_

* * *

 

It was humid out, and the sun was the only thing that could be seen in the blue sky.  Natasha had ditched her sleek, black corvette for a rusted pickup truck back in Washington.  She needed something to blend in, something normal, plain, and simple. 

That was two days ago. 

Two days since SHIELD went down in flames.

Two days since everything Natasha Romanov knew, went down with it.

When she first got into the truck, she wasn’t quite sure what her destination was.  She just needed to get out of that place, away from all the tabloids, all her enemies, (and Steve).  So she drove, and drove, and she kept driving, her knuckles white against the steering wheel.   She had nothing but one gun strapped to her hip, and a knife in her boot.  It wasn’t until she made it to Iowa, that and found herself parking in the driveway of some outdated farmhouse, did she know why she came.

She knocked on the door, using her right arm, as to not disturb the healing gunshot wound above her heart.  Not long after, she was greeted by a little boy, no older than four or five.

“Aunty Nat!” the boy squealed in excitement. 

He grabbed her hand, and pulled her inside, babbling about the sort of nonsense little kids think.  Natasha thought that the boy had Clint’s eyes.  As if on cue, she saw him walk down from the creaky steps.

“Hey stranger,” he said, nonchalantly, as if SHIELD didn’t just turn out to be Hydra in disguise, and she didn’t blow all her covers.

“Hey,” she said back, noticing the three year old girl in his arms.  “Where’s Laura?” she asked.

“Out,” he responded.  “Want a drink?”

* * *

 

It was only noon, and while Clint could bare a cup of coffee she settled for a beer, hoping that it would calm her uneasy stomach.

The five year old, Nick, was drawing at the wooden kitchen table, while the little girl, Nicole, ate some applesauce, or tried to eat, but was making more of a mess than anything.

“So,” Clint started, diverting her gaze from the kids, to his worried eyes.  “How are you?”

“How am I supposed to be?” she asked, taking a large sip from the beer bottle.

“I think you should be pissed.  Mad as H-E-L-L,” he said, spelling the last word out in front of their young audience.

Natasha shook her head, and gave out a pained laugh because she wasn’t mad, not at SHIELD, or Fury, she was mad at herself.  “It’s just—how could I have been so stupid?”

“Please,” he huffed out.  “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Not in that way,” she started.  “My whole life, I known that nothing last forever, that everything good comes to an end sooner or later, so why, why did I think, just for a minute that this was different, that maybe SHIELD was something permanent, something good, something that would last…”

“Hey,” he said taking her hand in his own.  “Yes SHIELD is over, and yes, you have to start over again, but you’re still the same old badass, stubborn, and sarcastic person that I am thankful to call my best friend, and godmother to my kids.  SHIELD being Hydra doesn’t change any of that.”

Natasha gave him a small thanks, before punching him in the arm.  “I am not stubborn,” she argued.

“Umm you kinda are, and can you not abuse me in front of my kids.  There at that age where they start to remember things, and I want them to respect me,” he said with a laugh.

Natasha laughed as well, until Nicole decided that it was the right moment to see how far she could fling applesauce off of her spoon, hitting Natasha right in the face with a loud giggle.  Wiping, it off, with a napkin, she stood from the table.  “I’m real sorry about that,” Clint said.

“No you’re not,” she said back.  “I could use a shower anyway though.”

“Guest room, to the right upstairs,” he said, and she nodded, before leaving to go clean up.

* * *

 

Natasha stayed in the shower long enough to watch her pale skin turn red, and wash off all the invisible grime of the battle fought what felt like a lifetime ago.  She stared at the scar on her abdomen, and she thought of Steve, and how he was somewhere now looking for what was left of his friend, and how badly she missed -- no she couldn’t think like that.  He went one way and she went the other, and that was for the best, she tried to convince herself, but failed.

Getting out of the shower, she wrapped a bathrobe around her, and went back into the guest room.  There she found a pile of neatly folded clothes, set on the bed covered by a red, yellow, and blue quilt.  Putting on a red flannel, and some jeans, she made a mental note to thank Laura later. 

She didn’t bother to do much with her hair, leaving it down, and curling back to its original style.  She walked downstairs, and found the Nicole in the living room.  The little girl ran up to Natasha as fast as her short legs would take her, and tugged on her arm.  Natasha kneeled down to her level, and smiled. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Can you teach new dance?” asked the three year old.

“I sure can,” Natasha replied.

And a half an hour later, Laura Barton, walked through to door, to find her daughter, being spun around in circles by none other than Natasha Romanov. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Laura asked, with a small smile.

“Mommy!” the little girl shouted, jumping into her mother’s arms.  Natasha couldn’t help the small pang of regret flash through her at that sight, but she erased it from her mind immediately.

“No, no, Nicole just wanted me to teach her some new dance moves,” she stated.

“Did you have fun?” Laura asked Nicole, and earned a frantic nod back from her daughter.  “Well I hope you’re hungry because Clint’s grilling.”

* * *

 

Natasha hadn’t eaten all day, yet she couldn’t work up the appetite to take a bite of her hot dog, so she just pushed around the pasta salad with her fork, and pretended to be okay because it wasn’t a matter of if Natasha Romanov would fall apart, but when.

She thought every noise in their backyard was a threat, ad even though the farm was miles away from any other contact, she couldn’t slow down her racing heart, as the throbbing in her shoulder grew to an ache. 

“God, Nat, you play with your food more than my kids,” Clint said with a chuckle.  “Are you alright?”

Yes, no.  I feel like I’m going to explode at any moment.

“I’m fine, just tired.  It was a long drive here,” she lied, but of course it rolled off of her lips, easier than the truth ever would.

Clint went back to eating, and talking about normal family things, things that she would never get the chance to say.

Soon after everyone had finished eating, and Natasha was helping Laura clean up in the kitchen, while Clint chased Nick and Nicole around the backyard.

“Would you like some Advil?” Laura asked her, while she was washing a dish.

“Why would I need one?” Natasha asked.

“Because you’re were shot,” she said, like she’s said it before.

“How do you—,”

“I found blood on your clothes when I was doing the laundry earlier, and I can see you wincing every time you move your arm,” she said.

“I didn’t mean to come here and disrupt anything--,” Natasha started, her heartbeat rising again.

“Natasha, when are you going to realize that you’re practically family?  I mean the kids adore you, Clint loves you like a sister, and you’ve saved his sorry ass more times then I even know, so I owe you for that one,” she said with a small laugh, but a genuine smile.

“It’s him I owe,” she said, looking down at her hands.

“Maybe that’s true, but life is too short to live it worrying about debts, you of anyone should know that,” Laura said, handing her the bottle of Advil, and getting back to cleaning up.

* * *

The kids were finally asleep, after begging Natasha to read them their favorite bedtime story.  Now here she and Clint were, looking up at the stars, listening to the crickets chirp, as they sat in faded rocking chairs on the porch.

“You know me and Laura are thinking about having another one, another kid I mean.” Said Clint.

“Well I hope that one takes after her, unlike the other two,” she said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe a few years ago, it was just you and me, out there in the field, going from mission to mission, just trying to help the people we could,” Clint said.

“Time flies,” she responded. 

“It sure does.  Speaking of time, how are things with Rogers?” Clint asked.

_Who do you want me to be?_

“We’re friends,” she said, drawing out the last word.

“And are you okay with that?”

“Yes…”

“But…” he pushed.

“I want us to be something more,” she finally confessed.

“You _loveeeee_ him,” Clint said in a teasing tone. 

“Stop,” she warned.

“Cap, and Nat sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G --,”

“Shut up,” Natasha said, punching him in the arm. 

“Again with the punching!  You’re gonna leave a bruise,” Clint whined.

“Oh, Man up.  Your three year old is tougher than you.”

“Okay, okay, I am going to let you say that, and I am going to be the bigger person, and not retaliate, but just remember this Romanov, I know that you like Steve, and I could spill the beans to anyone at any moment.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said.

“No, but you should.”

Natasha went back to looking at the stars in the sky, and she thought about what Laura said in the kitchen.  Life is short, and she has a bullet wound in her shoulder as proof, so maybe Clint is right.  Maybe she will tell Steve how she feels, and hope he feels the same, or maybe she’ll wait until the next time the world almost ends.

All she knew for sure was that she is safe, and she’s going to be alright.

“You’re a good dad, Clint,” she said, still looking at the stars.  “But you’re a better person.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

“You’re a shitty singer though.”

“Ohhh, are we going there now, I think we are,” he said, and for the first time since everything she knew turned out to be a lie, she felt hopeful.

* * *

 

_It's never too late-_

_never too late to start over,_

_never too late to be happy._

_-Jane Fonda_

**Author's Note:**

> There's going to be a chapter two that I will write after I see the movie. Of coarse I will write it how I think the movie should have went, and add certain things like ROMANOGERs, because where film fails, fanfiction can save. Thanks for reading, and it was a lot of fun to write Clint, since he's not normally in a lot of my writing. 
> 
> PLEASE REVIEW, AND WE CAN ALL CRY ABOUT THE FAILURES OF JOSS WHEDON IN LESS THAN A WEEK.


End file.
